The Hop
by EbonyBeach
Summary: The Doctor takes Rose to a Hop in 1950s America, where the mighty king Elvis himself is performing. Established 9thDrRose, rating will change in later chapters. Pointless fluff.


**Author**: EbonyBeach

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me (though I wouldn't say no to a Doctor of my own!)

**Dedication**: FireOpal, because she's the best beta-er and has helped me so much with this. And of course, because we love Intertwined! ;)

**Rating**: T... will change to M in future chapters.

**Notes**: This pointless fluff contains an established Doctor/Rose relationship - about 6 months or so. I'm not quite sure if it works, so please let me know what you think.

**Notes 2**: Thank you everyone who reviewed Intertwined, by myself and the great FireOpal. Chapter 3 is... coming along... kind of. But we are trying our very best to post something soon!

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Chapter 1

Rose giggled as she rolled off the Doctor, only to have him pull her back to the position they had landed in when the TARDIS had halted a good few minutes ago now. She hummed softly into his mouth as he kissed her, and just as she began to lose herself he pulled back and sat up, watching her with shining eyes.

"Tease," she muttered as he smiled and moved his hand slowly down her back, loving the way it made her squirm.

"You love me really," he replied with a wink, and she shook her head and pulled him to his feet. As he made his way over to the console she slapped his backside playfully, and the look he gave her over his shoulder sent shivers down her spine. "Fantastic!" He grinned a second later, turning back to face her.

"Where are we?" She took his outstretched hand and proceeded to scream as he spun her around and tipped her back over his knee, so low that her hair brushed along the floor.

"Mississippi, September 1957." He brought her back to her feet and held her against his chest. "We're going to the Hop."

Rose raised an eyebrow at his slightly slurred, American accent. "The what?"

He tutted and rolled his eyes. "Humans, so culturally unaware - this sort of thing shaped generations, and you don't even know it!"

She folded her arms and frowned. "I wasn't alive in the fifties, incase that had slipped your mind."

"That's no excuse," he said, leaning down to kiss her before she retaliated in her adorable yet predictably stubborn manner. When he moved back, the far-away look on her face assured him that she had completely forgotten her argument, and he felt himself grinning again.

"Doctor?" Her grip on his jacket loosened as the world returned to under her feet.

"Hmm?"

"This is brainwashing, this is," she murmured and he laughed.

"What is?" His fingers ran lightly across her neck.

She frowned again, which soon vanished into a sigh as she leaned instinctively into his touch. "I- I don't know."

He dipped his head so his lips moved ghost-like against her hers when he spoke. "What do you know Rose?" His hand slipped slowly down her side, fingers tapping on her hip.

Her answer was non-verbal, but told him more than words ever could. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she closed the whisper of a gap between their mouths, and then she was kissing him, pressing her body against his, needing to be as close to him as possible.

For all his 'brainwashing' skills, the Doctor had never claimed to be immune to Rose's own methods, and she was certainly breaking down all his defences today. One of her hands found its way under his jumper and he groaned against her lips, gathering all his will power to pull back.

To his surprise it was Rose who broke away first. She regarded him closely as he struggled to regain his senses, feeling such power at the effect she had on this supposedly 'untouchable' Time Lord. When he was eventually able to meet her mischievous gaze, he smiled despite himself.

"Tease," he said softly and she grinned.

"You love me really," she mocked and he nodded, suddenly serious.

"I do."

"Yeah, me too."

Once again the grin was back, and his voice held excitement like a child's. "Right, we'd better get a move on then, it's starting at seven." He looked at the time on the screen behind him and swore. "You need to change, the TARDIS will help you out." When the only movement she made was to look at the clock herself, he frowned. "What?"

"It's only six, we've got a whole hour..." She trailed off, eyes dark. He wasn't swayed though.

"We have to drive there first," he insisted, ushering her across the control room. "And trust me, you don't want to miss this."

Rose found all previous arguments were begin quickly replaced by curiosity and excitement, and blew him a kiss as she went in search of the wardrobe. The Doctor had seen the birth and death of galaxies, and she had learned over the past few months that anything he classed as 'unmissable' truly was beyond all words.

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When Rose returned to the control room half an hour later, the Doctor wasn't there. For a bizzare moment she contemplated looking for him in his bedroom, but when she realised that implied he was getting changed, she almost laughed aloud. Shaking her head, she made her way around the console and lifted herself into one of the Y-shaped supports, idly swinging her legs. 

It had been so long since she'd worn two-inch silver peep-toe stilettoes that she had forgotten how much they straightened her back, and how elegant they made her calves look. Thankfully it seemed walking in heels obeyed the same principle as riding a bike - once you learned, you never forgot. During her Patrick Swayze infatuation when she was thirteen, she had watched Dirty Dancing enough times to know all the moves, and she would perform them with Shireen in her old leotard and her mum's white dancing shoes, which she would eventually snap the heel of and get grounded for, even though Jackie hadn't worn them for ten years.

Smiling slightly with nostalgia and trying to ignore the twinge of sadness in her heart when she thought about her mum, Rose managed to drag herself back to the present.

She thought it was fair to presume the Doctor was taking her dancing. The shoes were a fairly good give-away to start with, and the dress came close behind. She patted the column of the support affectionately. "You may be a nine hundred year old time machine," she said to the TARDIS, "but you've got great fashion taste."

"Rose, you know it's not healthy to talk to yourself." She jumped at the voice, and then breathed a sigh of relief when she realised it was the Doctor speaking and not, as she had momentarily believed, the TARDIS herself.

"Where've you been?" She asked, leaning forwards to try and see him around the console.

There was a pause before he replied through gritted teeth, "Getting changed."

"Is that why you're hiding from me?" Her gentle tone held a patronising mocking which he alone could pick up. It was a tactic she employed whenever she wanted something, because she knew it irritated him into defying her, and at the same time got her exactly what she asked for.

She heard him muttering as he moved around the console and into view. Her initial reaction was to burst out laughing, but she managed just in time to swallow it and limit herself to a small smile, knowing how embarrassed he was about wearing anything other than his 'comfort clothes' - battered leather jacket and dark jumper - and if he thought she found it amusing, he would go straight back to his room and change again.

As a matter of fact, it wasn't suppressed laughter that was preventing her breathing - it was how completely gorgeous he looked, standing there trying to read the expression on her face, attempting not to appear as mortified as he felt.

"Blimey," she whispered. "You look... _wow_." There were no other words, and she guessed her eyes told him everything he needed to know. He was wearing black trousers, but that was where any resembelance to comfort clothes stopped. His shoes were mostly black, with white panels around the laces; he also wore a hat and a black jacket and tie - but it was the pink shirt that got Rose. Here was the epitome of fifties' class and sophistication, and he was all hers.

She held out her hands and he grinned and began to move towards her, but before he had taken two steps, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw her - _really _saw her for the first time - and his hearts stopped beating. How he had managed to ignore this fallen angel was beyond him: at that moment though, everything was beyond him. All reasonable thought had vanished as his eyes raked across her, locking every line and curve into his memory forever.

Her strapless dress was the same pastel pink as his shirt, and covered with black polka dots. The neckline was straight and low, revealing enough cleavage to entrance and yet frustrate him at the same time. The material was tapered and curved down her sleight waist and over her hips, leading into a full knee-length skirt. And her legs... He realised (although he didn't care) how intently he was staring at her, because she brushed them together nervously, which only served to entice him further.

Rose had been watching him watching her for what felt like an eternity, but was in reality only a few seconds. She smiled slightly despite her blush, and when he eventually managed to draw his eyes to hers, he looked at her with so much love and dark desire that she thought her face might burn off.

"It looks alright then, yeah?"

In response, he covered the remaining distance between them and lifted her from her seat, holding her waist against his chest as he spun her round, laughing as she screamed in pure delight.

"Rose Tyler," he breathed as he lowered her down, still holding her off the ground. She giggled and wrapped her legs around his waist. His gaze flicked to this contact. "We find ourselves in a familiar position." His voice was low, and Rose knew why. She removed his hat so she could press her smiling lips to his as he pushed her back against the support, taking care not to mess up her softly curled hair.

"Bloody hell you're beautiful," he murmured between kisses.

"For a human?" She teased softly, wriggling her hips against his as he groaned against her throat.

"Nope, just beautiful."

Rose placed the hat on her head at a jaunty angle and pouted. "How about now?" He grinned and, dipping his head to capture her lips in a last lingering kiss, put her back on her feet.

"Beautiful _and _adorable." There was still that dangerous fire in his eyes, but Rose was always amazed at how quickly he could recover from such sexually charged moments - her she was, weak with need, and he just sauntered across to the door and held it open.

Although, technically speaking, he didn't really recover - he just had this alien ability to sort of store it away until it could be unleashed, which, needless to say made him completely insatiable, and it drove her wild.

What she didn't know, however, was how much it killed him to pull away from her and how much power he had to draw on in order to stop himself taking her then and there. But tonight they had somewhere to be, and there was no way in the universe he was going to let her miss this.

When Rose had managed to steady her heartbeat, she followed him across the room. "The world awaits," he grinned, and as she passed he stole his hat back, playfully slapping her backside when she sent him a mock glare. He locked the door, turning around as she slipped her hand into his and squeezed it in what he interpreted as confusion.

As he scanned the horizon, it soon became evident where this had stemmed from. They had landed slap bang in the middle of a corn field.

"Well," the Doctor began, ever the optimist, "It's a beautiful evening."

She took a second to notice the warm orange sun and the clear, cloudless sky, and conceded his point. "Yeah, true, but we're in _the middle of a field_." She glanced up at him. "Unless this is what you had planned..."

To both her delight and slight disappointment he shook his head. "Not exactly." He frowned as if trying to remember something, which seemed to have happened when he exclaimed, "It's this way!" and proceeded to lead her through the shoulder-length plants.

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To be continued... 


End file.
